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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24190681">Absolute Idiots</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Visionairz/pseuds/Catoukin'>Catoukin (Visionairz)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Epic Friendship, M/M, Mutual Pining, bless these three, like seriously will race and albert shut up, literally just friendship, ralbert is there but like no, smalls is sick of their shit, this is definitely not part of a crusade, we needed some platonic vibes honestly</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 00:39:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,172</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24190681</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Visionairz/pseuds/Catoukin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I can’t get him out of my head, Smalls. Him and his stupid red hair and green eyes and his shit-eating smile…”</p>
<p>“Mhm.”</p>
<p>“And his laugh! Oh my God, his laugh.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Albert DaSilva/Racetrack Higgins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Absolute Idiots</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I can’t get him out of my head, Smalls. Him and his stupid red hair and green eyes and his shit-eating smile…”</p>
<p>“Mhm.”</p>
<p>“And his laugh! Oh my God, his laugh.”</p>
<p>Smalls swiped their thumb along their screen, scrolling through their Instagram explore page. They were barely listening to the words coming out of Race’s mouth. Their full focus was on the pictures of frogs taking over every single post.</p>
<p>They weren’t one to care about this sort of topic. Romance and feelings have never been a strong suit of theirs since they never really experienced it. It’s not like they wanted to. They were perfectly happy messing around with friends and dunking people in the pool just to dominate at chicken.</p>
<p>So, to be sitting there in their friend’s apartment, they had honestly forgotten why they were there.</p>
<p>First thing they knew they were hanging out and making some interesting recipe Race had found online and the next, Race was face planted on his bed whining about Albert. And dear God, the guy wouldn’t shut up.</p>
<p>Race sat up and pouted. “I feel like you’re not even listening to me.”</p>
<p>Smalls glanced up with a simple “hmm?” They paused for a moment as they processed what they heard before rolling their eyes. “Oh, no I’m listening, don't worry your gay ass.”</p>
<p>When Race gasped, Smalls grinned. The blonde grabbed his pillow and chucked it at the shorter teen, earning a squeal of protest. The force and surprise knocked them off the bed. With a pillow in their face and their back flat on the floor, Smalls just lay there, giggling nonstop.</p>
<p>“You are the worst possible friend,” Race whined from above them. His voice was high and pitchy and, truth be told, sounded like some valley girl who didn’t get their boba tea. It was pretty funny.</p>
<p>Smalls peeled the pillow away and stuck their tongue out at Race. “Yeah, well, at least I didn’t promise to cook and then started whining about a boy.”</p>
<p>“Okay, but-”</p>
<p>“We were gonna make lasagna!” They lamented, throwing the pillow back at Race.</p>
<p>This earned a squeak out of Race as it nailed him just right, ramming his glasses into his face. He hissed and reached up, pulling his glasses off to press his fingers against the bridge of his nose.</p>
<p>He shot a playful glare at his friend as Smalls continued to lie on the floor. Their hair was just as sprawled as their arms and Christ, they would not stop laughing.</p>
<p>It got to the point they had tears in their eyes. Smalls didn’t bother to move or wipe them away the entire time, quite content as they were. They looked like they were having some sort of meltdown with the way their face grew a deep red and she struggled to breathe.</p>
<p>Eventually they sat up and rubbed the backs of their hands against their eyes. With the tears gone, Smalls took a few deep breaths. They were quick to calm down, their shoulders no longer shaking and their heart rate steadily slowing down.</p>
<p>“We’re not gonna make lasagna,” Race finally said, “because you’re the one that got me on this tangent!”</p>
<p>“I did not!” Smalls exclaimed.</p>
<p>Race jabbed his finger in Smalls’ direction. “You did! You know how to get me talking about him and just how amazing he is.” His hand faltered a bit as his expression grew dreamy. “God, he’s fucking perfect Smalls. His arms… have you seen his arms?!”</p>
<p>Smalls sighed and ran a hand across their face. “Yes, Race, I’ve seen his arms.”</p>
<p>“I don’t want him to ever stop wearing tank tops.”</p>
<p>“I know.”</p>
<p>“I want him to crush my skull with them.”</p>
<p>“I know.”</p>
<p>The familiar buzz of Smalls’ phone distracted them from Race’s rambling. They tuned him out as they pulled the device out. They didn’t expect too much, maybe a stupid text from a friend. And, well, they weren’t too far off.</p>
<p>
  <strong>[<em>ginger bitch himbo addition</em> at 7:32 P.M.]</strong>
</p>
<p><br/>smalls</p>
<p>smalls i need help</p>
<p>smalls please</p>
<p>this is important</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <strong>[<em>Smalls</em>]</strong>
</p>
<p><br/>what is it fucko</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <strong>[<em>ginger bitch himbo addition</em>]</strong>
</p>
<p><br/>why the fuck is race so cute</p>
<p><br/>Smalls groaned and turned their phone off.</p>
<p>These two are fucking idiots and they were sick of it. Almost every day they had to deal with either Race or Albert talking their ear off about the other. From Race it was always about how hot Albert was and how much he wanted the ginger to absolutely ravish him. With Albert, it was complete gushing -- the sort of thing Albert would NEVER do around anyone else, let’s be real here -- about how adorable Race was. Every text from Albert would be about something he found quirky and cute about the blonde.</p>
<p>The way his hair seemed to always be perfect, the way he laughed, the stupid smile Race always had when joking around, the way he would constantly dress…</p>
<p>Smalls was desensitized at this point.</p>
<p>It was painfully obvious that Race would dress up whenever he knew he would be around Albert. Just the other day Race had found the most revealing outfit he could possibly own just to go rollerskating with the group.</p>
<p>Smalls was convinced Race had even dabbled in makeup for the occasion. Which, let’s be real, he most likely did.</p>
<p>But, sitting before Smalls and rambling on and on about how hot Albert is when they go swimming, Race was dressed casually. A simple pair of light blue skinny jeans ripped around his knees and a pink and white rugby striped shirt that hung loose around his skinny frame. A severe lack of shoes or socks and his hair was barely kept was rather noticeable as well; a sign that he really didn’t care around Smalls.</p>
<p>And Smalls was sick of just how oblivious Albert was to it all.</p>
<p>The way Race would oggle the ginger every second he could was getting annoying. There were so many times Smalls would have to flat out slap the blonde to get him to focus.</p>
<p>At least neither of them remembers what happens when they get drunk, dear God.</p>
<p>If one did, Smalls would never hear the end of it.</p>
<p>It’s safe to say everyone at the parties made a mutual agreement to never speak of what they’ve witnessed. Hell, most of them are making bets on who’s gonna make the first move.</p>
<p>Which will definitely be neither of them.</p>
<p>Another buzz of the phone.</p>
<p>
  <strong>[<em>ginger bitch himbo addition</em> at 7:36 P.M.]</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>shit wait his birthday is next week </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>what do i get him? </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>i should get him a cat</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Smalls frantically scrambled to reply.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <strong>[<em>Smalls</em>]</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>no!</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>no you should not those aren’t ALLOWED you dumb fuck</em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <strong>[<em>ginger bitch himbo addition</em>]</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>stuffed cat</em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <strong>[<em>Smalls</em>]</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>that’s better</em>
</p>
<p><br/>“Hey, who’re you texting?”</p>
<p>Smalls’ head shot up the moment Race addressed them. They hadn’t even realized the guy had stopped rambling about Albert.</p>
<p>“Uh- no one,” Smalls said with an innocent smile.</p>
<p>This is gonna suck.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>me? posting another oneshot for no reason?<br/>very likely</p>
<p>if you ever wanna hmu, my tumblr is @alberts-hat :D</p></blockquote></div></div>
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